Now You're Talking Wedding Bells
by Crinklybrownleaves
Summary: A post-wedding story for Lucien and Jean. This follows straight on from my story Who We Think We Are, so please try to read that first, though it's not essential.
1. Chapter 1

**As always, these are not my characters.**

 **I'm sorry, I couldn't resist the title. In fact, I wanted to write something with this title (from the song in 2.2) long before I decided exactly what to write about!**

 **This is the post-wedding story some reviewers asked me to write, following on from my story Who We Think We Are. It would really help to have read that story first, or if you can't face reading all of it, at least the last chapter. If you can't face even doing that, well, they've just got married...**

 **Thanks to Alli-Beth for the hotel xx**

Jean stood at the hotel room window, at least pretending to admire the view. Her stomach was a painful knot. This wasn't going at all how she had imagined it and she didn't know what to do next.

Lucien watched her and could see the tension in her, even without seeing her face. Perhaps this had all been a mistake. He took off his jacket and hat and laid them over a chair, delaying for a moment, wondering what to say.

After they had left the pub, Jean had threaded her arm through Lucien's as they walked to the hotel. She hadn't known where they were going to stay, and when it became clear where they were headed, she had started to worry.

The Windsor was not the sort of hotel people like Jean stayed in, or that was what she told herself. In her eyes, it was for the rich and influential, not for widowed housekeepers, and it made her uncomfortable. She was only too aware that this was much more Lucien's world than hers; comfortably-off and well travelled, he had the confidence to appear at home here.

She took a steadying deep breath as they walked through the front doors, and deliberately didn't meet the eye of any of the staff as they checked in and went to their room. The room felt better than downstairs to her, but only slightly. It was large, elegant, and the furnishings were beautiful. She realised that Lucien had chosen with the best of motives, but it really wasn't helping her nerves.

Lucien had noticed Jean had gone very quiet, of course, but he wasn't sure what the problem was exactly. Two possibilities seemed most likely: the hotel, or the expectations of what might happen on their wedding night. Time to find out which it was.

"Jean, what's the matter? Is it this," he gestured at the room, "or is it me?"

She laughed nervously, and turned for a moment to look at him. "Mostly the hotel," she said. "I hadn't expected somewhere quite this grand. It's lovely, but I've never stayed anywhere like this before."

Lucien moved closer to her now, standing behind her as she turned back to the window, and resting his hands lightly on her waist. He kissed the back and side of her neck and spoke quietly beside her ear.

"We can go home if you prefer? Would you be more comfortable at home, or at the Soldier's Hill Hotel? We could be home in Ballarat in a couple of hours."

"No, that would be such a waste, I'll be all right." Jean took a deep, if rather shaky, breath and turned back to the room, and went to sit in one of the armchairs. That was the easier problem to talk about; the other, of course, was the sex. She'd been rather looking forward to it, but now there was a problem.

She'd expected that by the time they got to the hotel it would be evening, they could eat dinner, maybe go for a stroll, then go to bed. Much what had happened on her first wedding night, in fact. She smiled to herself at the memory; at least this time she would know what she was doing.

But most importantly it would be dark by then. She wouldn't have to be naked, or nearly so, in broad daylight in front of a man who had only ever seen her fully clothed, even if he was now her husband.

Rose's words in the pub, followed by the speed with which she left with Charlie, had made it quite obvious that everyone thought she and Lucien would be falling into bed together at the first available opportunity, and that was now, but it was only mid-afternoon.

She was pretty sure that once they were actually in bed it would all be fine, but how to get there? And was that what he was expecting?

She glanced swiftly at Lucien, who had now settled in the other armchair. He was watching her quietly, knowing there was more she wanted to say, waiting till she was ready. She reached out to hold his hand, and Lucien decided he needed to take control before Jean lost her nerve entirely.

"I'm going to prescribe us both a stiff drink, I think," he said and promptly ordered them, and when Jean had drunk most of her sherry he came and kissed her cheek, crouching next to her.

"Tell me," he said, and waited again. "We don't have to do anything you don't want to do."

"Well," she started, "I do want to, but I don't know how we're going to get from here to there," she continued, indicating the bed on the other side of the room."

"Right, well, we could walk, or I could carry you. But seriously, Jean, stop worrying. You are brave and beautiful, and I love you. Nothing can go wrong here that would matter in the slightest."

He drew her up to standing and kissed her lightly, then more thoroughly, running his hands down her back and over her bottom, hitching her closer to him as he did so. Both her arms were round his neck and she raised herself on tiptoe to deepen the kiss. Lucien broke away first, smiling at her enthusiasm, which seemed at odds with her nerves. But he could understand how both could be true.

"I'm going to go for a walk around the block," Lucien suggested. "That'll give you time to work out how to get from here to there...and then we'll just see what happens."

Without waiting for a reply, he put his jacket and hat back on and slipped out of the door, sincerely hoping he was doing the right thing.


	2. Chapter 2

**There will be some more chapters after this one, but not for a few days I think. xx**

Jean looked at her reflection in the bathroom mirror and frowned slightly. The silk nightdress she had bought for the occasion was beautiful, though she wondered if it was a bit too much. She pulled out the last of her hairpins and brushed through her curls, then tried a tentative smile. That worked better.

She had to admit that Lucien going out did make it all a bit easier. She slid between the covers on the bed and stretched out experimentally, acknowledging to herself that expensive hotels did have some things in their favour, large and very comfortable beds being one of them.

She wondered for a moment which side of the bed Lucien slept on, then surprised herself slightly by knowing the answer. She'd put him to bed drunk once, but otherwise had never been in his room while he was in bed. Perhaps it was just something housekeepers knew, that they picked up along with the laundry. She shuffled over accordingly and curled up a little, pulling the covers up a bit more and hoping he came back before she either lost her nerve again or fell asleep.

Lucien was relieved to find Jean still in the room when he got back, and better still, in bed. He smiled at her before disappearing into the bathroom, and reappearing a couple of minutes later wearing pyjama trousers. He slipped into bed and breathed a very quiet sigh of relief.

For some time they just held each other, kissing occasionally but mostly just looking at each other and getting used to being together like this. Eventually Jean started to stroke her fingertips over his chest and shoulders, and Lucien slid the strap of her nightdress over her shoulder and caressed her breast, brushing against her nipple with his thumb. They kissed with renewed fervour and set out to explore what they had for so long only imagined.

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Afterwards, they lay together in bed for the rest of the afternoon, watching the shadows lengthen as the light slowly faded. They talked for a while, then dozed, and eventually resolved to get up and get dressed for dinner. Jean slipped out of bed to retrieve her discarded nightdress and then realised she had not even thought about being seen naked; laughing at herself she put it on and sat down on the edge of the bed, resting her hand on Lucien's shoulder.

"Time you were getting up," she whispered in his ear. He opened an eye and pulled a face at her.

"What happened to Mrs Shy and Awkward?" Lucien teased her.

"She remembered she's married now," she replied and walked off to get dressed.

Lucien watched her, smiling to himself. He loved her vulnerability, but he loved her confidence too, and Jean was always going to be a mixture of the two.

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They both woke early in the morning, but delayed getting up for as long as they could, aware that normal life was beckoning, and this was an all too brief time for the two of them to be together undisturbed. Eventually Lucien turned to Jean and kissed her. "It may have been a very short honeymoon, but we made the most of it," and he grinned at her.

"Mmm, and I'll always remember it, but now it's time to go home," Jean replied, "and I think a few people are going to be surprised by our news." She found she was looking forward to being honest with friends and family after months of pretending and secrecy.


	3. Chapter 3

He insisted on carrying Jean over the threshold of the house, of course, despite her protests. As she laughed, Lucien wanted to keep that one instant, almost as if it were a photograph. It felt like a perfect moment to sum up the last few days.

Closing the door behind them, they stopped for a leisurely kiss in the hallway, then walked through to the kitchen.

Over a cup of tea, they made some plans for the next couple of days, talking them over until they were satisfied they hadn't forgotten anything important. Top of the list was telling their families they had got married, and Jean rather nervously rang Christopher and Jack with the news. Both were surprised, of course, but by the timing rather than the marriage itself. Even Jack, who didn't get on with Blake particularly well, said he was happy for her and that it was about time they got married.

With relief Jean went to find Lucien to share with him how the conversations had gone, only to find him writing a letter to Lee and Mei Lin. From the evidence of several crumpled attempts in the bin, it was obviously not proving easy to know what to say, and how to say it. Jean left him to it - this was one task she couldn't help him with, beyond an encouraging kiss.

Then he rang Matthew to ask him for dinner, and Jean phoned to invite the sewing circle over later in the evening. They decided to go together to see everyone else, and made the Club their first call, to see Cec and to warn him they would be inviting friends over to the club for drinks the following evening. He seemed pleased for them and congratulated them both, calling Jean Mrs Blake for the first time. This gave her a jolt; somehow she still thought of Mei Lin as Mrs Blake. This might all take some getting used to.

Next was the police station. Frank greeted them with surprise, partly because he wasn't expecting to see them, but also because they were holding hands in public.

"Doctor...Mrs Beazley...what can I do for you?" he asked.

"Ah, well, that's the point," said Lucien. "Not Mrs Beazley anymore. Jean and I got married yesterday, and we've come to invite you all to have a drink with us at the Club tomorrow evening." He included Bill Hobart and Ned in this, turning to them as he spoke.

"You kept that quiet," Frank replied, then came round from behind his desk to congratulate them both. Charlie just grinned, there was no point in him pretending to be surprised as his role was bound to come out at some point. They all agreed to the drinks, and Lucien and Jean then had just one more call to make.

Alice's reactions were often surprising, and this time was no exception; her response was to ask why they were home, rather than on their honeymoon. Jean explained they would be going away in a few weeks and that seemed to satisfy her.

Lucien and Alice understood each other rather better now, and he suspected she was just checking that he was making Jean his priority, after all the stress and secrecy they had had to cope with. Lucien had a tendency to get caught up in events and forget other people might need him too; perhaps he needed to try to change that now he was married.


	4. Chapter 4

**Two chapters posted today!**

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Once they were home again, Lucien turned his attention to moving Jean's belongings into his bedroom. This was never going to be easy, and soon various pieces of furniture were cluttering up the hallway as he tried to rearrange the room to her liking. With dinner nearly ready, there were still a lot of books and clothes to put away, and it was clear the job would take more than one evening.

He was just packing some of the extra items into a couple of boxes when Matthew arrived.

"Is someone moving in?" he asked. "Or out maybe?"

"Neither really. Jean's moving in with me," Lucien said, then when he saw Lawson's raised eyebrow he realised more explanation was needed. "We got married yesterday, so..."

"Ah, congratulations!" Matthew grinned at Lucien, and clapped him on the shoulder. "I'll just go and commiserate with her now," he teased. Instead he found her in the kitchen and kissed her on the cheek.

When they had eaten, and Matthew and Lucien had moved into the living room with their drinks, Charlie offered to help Jean with the washing up.

"Are you still going to be doing everything in the house, Jean?" he asked her. "You can't say you're the housekeeper any more."

Jean paused and thought for a moment. "Well, I suppose I'm the housewife now instead, but maybe Lucien and I need to talk about that." She realised she had assumed everything would go on as before, but maybe it shouldn't, or at least they should discuss it first. "Thank you for your help, Charlie," she added as they finished.

Jean still had some niggling doubts about the sewing circle coming round. Not that they didn't often come round, but this time she had to tell them something they probably wouldn't approve of or really understand. Most of the ladies went to the church, and were likely to be a bit shocked at Jean marrying a divorced man. She might have secretly felt the same a few months ago, though she wouldn't have said so out loud.

She made tea for them as they arrived and steered them into the dining room, giving Lucien a look that clearly meant he should keep out of the way. She tried a similar look on Matthew and Charlie and hoped they would occupy Lucien for her, even if it involved quite a lot of whisky.

Jean waited till everyone was busy with their sewing before raising the subject. Clearing her throat rather nervously, she turned to Evelyn Toohey who was sitting next to her, and said, as casually as she could manage in the circumstances, "Lucien and I got married yesterday, Evelyn."

In some ways Mrs Toohey should have been the hardest of the women to convince that this was a good thing; certainly the most devout Catholic amongst them, and perhaps older than the others too. But Jean rather liked her. And she maybe knew Lucien a bit better than the others did.

Jean's announcement, quiet as it had been, had brought all the chatter around the table to a halt. Everyone seemed to stare at Jean in shock for a moment, then their eyes shifted to Evelyn; how would she react?

"Well, Jean, I'm sure you'll be very happy together. The doctor is a very fortunate man to have you." She smiled at Jean and looked around at the other ladies who, taking their cue from Mrs Toohey, offered their best wishes, and admired both her new rings.

Gradually they coaxed some of the story out of Jean: the wait for the divorce, the very quiet wedding, telling everyone afterwards. She didn't talk about the time Mei Lin had spent in Ballarat; most of her friends had guessed at the time how hard she was finding it, though it had never been discussed.

Now it was over they just wanted to be happy for her and with her. If they had any doubts about the situation they didn't share them, and she was grateful. She knew there would be problems with the priest, but she could put those to the back of her mind for now.

After the ladies had gone home, Charlie had gone to bed, and Matthew had left as well, Lucien and Jean sat in their living room, worn out by a day of visits and visitors, but relieved too. The friends they had told over dinner all those months ago had all been delighted for them that they had finally been able to marry. And the people they had kept it from for so long had seemed to take the news well now. And since the news was out, there didn't need to be any more secrets.

Closing her eyes and running a hand over her face, Jean lay back in her chair, tired. Then she remembered. "Oh, I haven't written to Mattie to tell her..." She'd been writing to Mattie regularly and kept her up to date with news, but hadn't told her the divorce was through, so the marriage would certainly be a surprise to her.

"Hmm, yes, but you're tired now. She's half the world away, so another day won't matter. Now, time for bed, if we can get into the room for all the boxes, that is!"

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 **I'm not sure that Mrs Toohey was ever really in the sewing circle, but she is now!**


	5. Chapter 5

Lucien had not been exaggerating when he wondered if they would be able to get past the boxes into the bedroom. Clearly some more work needed to be done here tomorrow, but for now Jean contented herself with finding her nightdress and getting into bed.

Of course she knew this room very well; she cleaned in here, changed the sheets, put away Lucien's clean laundry. She smiled to herself as she lay down, breathing in the scent that was Lucien - soap and masculinity - from the pillow.

Several times in the last few months she had hesitated outside his bedroom door, tempted to go in and spend the night with him. She was fairly sure he would not have turned her away, but she had never taken that risk. Now she could enjoy the feeling that he was hers, and this was where she wanted to be.

When Lucien came to bed, she turned to him drowsily and lay against his side, her hand resting on his chest, and was almost immediately asleep. He slid his arm under her so her head was on his shoulder and smiled contentedly. As his eyes got used to the darkness, he watched her, and thought with pleasure that he could have this joy every night for the rest of his life.

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They made love in the morning, slowly and leisurely, discovering more about how to please each other, and forgetting everything except the two of them. The world seemed to shrink to that one room, and it was only afterwards that Jean realised it was now fully daylight. Glancing at the clock, she sat up suddenly.

"Look at the time, Lucien! Charlie will be expecting his breakfast." She snatched her dressing gown from the hook and rushed out to the bathroom.

By the time she had dressed and got ready, Charlie had put the kettle on and had started to set the table for breakfast. He noticed Jean didn't meet his eye as she rushed in and began preparing breakfast. She was flustered and pink, and apologised rather too much for oversleeping.

Lucien appeared five minutes later looking pleased with himself and sat down without comment, wished Charlie a good morning and ate his breakfast. Charlie grinned to himself at their different reactions; very clearly it was not oversleeping that had made them late.

Jean rushed through the washing up to be ready for the first patient's arrival, and for most of the morning she and Lucien were busy with appointments. In a quieter moment she went to make some tea, and they were still drinking it when Agnes Clasby arrived. As usual she expected Jean to stay for the appointment, and when the consultation was finished she turned to fix first Jean, and then Lucien, with her usual unflinching gaze.

"So, what's the matter with you two?" she asked. There would be no chance of her leaving before she knew what was going on. Lucien and Jean exchanged an amused look.

"Jean and I got married, Agnes, two days ago in Melbourne," he replied.

"Ah, well done. Not before time though, if I may say so." she said, giving him a rather severe look, and Jean a small smile and a nod. "And I'm sure some people will say it's very convenient for you to marry your housekeeper, but in your case I can see it's more than that. Congratulations." And she stood up to leave.

As usual with an encounter with Agnes Clasby it was hard to know how to respond, and after she had gone they were left smiling wryly at each other. Then Jean looked more serious, and tentatively raised the subject that had been bothering her.

"Am I still your housekeeper and receptionist, though? Do we just carry on as before?"

"Well, no, of course not..." Lucien trailed off, unsure how they were going to manage this. "What would you like to do?"

And with the usual perfect timing, the phone rang, and nothing was settled.

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 **Well, the phone had to ring at a bad moment at least once, didn't it?**


	6. Chapter 6

During the afternoon, Jean found some time to sit at the kitchen table and write to Mattie. She had written often before, but this was the first letter that contained only good news. Jean missed Mattie, especially missed having another woman in the house, someone who knew her well enough to see below the surface.

From Mattie's letters it was clear to Jean that she was homesick, and although the work was going well she was finding life in London more lonely than expected. Jean wrote her a long and cheerful letter, telling her about the wedding and how they had surprised people with it. She did not seal up the letter though, thinking Lucien might want to write to her too.

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An hour into the party virtually everyone they knew in Ballarat had arrived. It seemed that word had got around and plenty of patients and neighbours had turned up to shake their hands and share a drink.

Jean found herself telling the story of their wedding many times to people as they came and went, but only Charlie really knew all that had happened while Mei Lin was in Ballarat, and even he didn't know about the first, interrupted, proposal. Jean had shared that only with Mattie, and then probably only because she was safely many miles away. Again, she felt a pang of regret that Mattie wasn't there.

Lucien was wisely not drinking as much as usual, and he was careful to keep an eye on Jean and whether she was enjoying herself. She was lively and smiling, even relaxed, and his heart ached with love for her as he watched her. As the party quietened down a little he went over to speak to her, and saw a flash of relief in her eyes as he approached. He made an excuse for drawing her aside and they moved out on to the balcony, away from everyone else.

"Are you enjoying it?" he asked.

"Yes, mostly, but I don't think I can face talking to many more people." Jean smiled to soften the remark, but Lucien could see she meant it. She seemed suddenly worn thin by too much company. He found himself feeling very protective of Jean, though he wasn't sure she necessarily wanted that, but he couldn't help it. So much had happened to them in the last weeks and months.

When he hugged her though, she rested her head on his chest and closed her eyes, enjoying the moment of calm and his very solid presence against her cheek. She could feel desire start to stir in her. "Hmm, I might just stay here," she said, and he stroked her hair gently.

"Maybe we should go back in and start to say some goodbyes, so we can go home," he replied, and he lifted up her chin a little so he could kiss her.

They rejoined the party and Lucien started to go round thanking people for coming, and most of them took the hint and headed for home. Soon they were left with just a small group of friends, chatting amiably as the party wound down.

Rose came up to Jean with an envelope and handed it over. "This is a little wedding present for you both. There will be some more after this evening too, but I'll bring those over tomorrow."

Intrigued, Jean opened the envelope to find several copies of a photo of Lucien and her on the registry office steps after the wedding ceremony. They had been talking to Charlie, though he wasn't in the picture, and none of them had noticed Rose taking the photograph.

"It seemed a shame that you wouldn't have any wedding photos, so I just took a few shots when you weren't looking. This was the best one, I think."

In the photo Lucien and Jean each had an arm around the other and they were laughing at something Charlie had said. It captured a moment of happiness perfectly.

"I took some more photos this evening so I'll let you have those tomorrow," Rose looked embarrassed for a moment, then kissed Jean on the cheek and left.

"What was that about?" Lucien asked, as they put their coats on to go home.

"I'll show you later," Jean promised, and they went out to the car with Charlie.

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She waited to show him until they were alone in their bedroom. Jean finished brushing her hair and climbed into bed, bringing the envelope with her. Lucien came to join her and he looked at the photo for a moment, puzzled. "I don't remember her taking this," he said, and looked at Jean.

"She took it as a surprise for us. I think it's rather good; I might send one to Mattie with the letter. Oh, and I thought you might want to write to her as well, so it's not posted yet."

Lucien took one of the photos and propped it against the mirror on the dressing table. "Rather nice to have a wedding photo, isn't it?" He looked at it with pride, before turning off the lamp and reaching out to hold Jean.


	7. Chapter 7

Lucien finished his letter to Mattie and slipped it into the envelope with the photo. He missed her too, though this was the first letter he had written to her since she left. He found it hard to picture her in London, working at St Barts, walking the same corridors he had thirty years earlier. It seemed so long ago it was another lifetime.

He went to find Jean to give her the letter, and found her in the kitchen, washing up. He grabbed a tea towel and started to dry the dishes.

"So, Jean, we were interrupted before you could tell me what was bothering you yesterday."

Jean hesitated, then tried to explain. "Agnes Clasby won't be the only person who thinks you've married me just to make sure you will always have a housekeeper." Horrified, he tried to interrupt her to object to this but she raised her hand to stop him.

"I know that's not true, but how are our lives going to be any different to how they were before?" she asked.

"Do you really have to ask, Jean? Everything is different now. You can do whatever you want to do. I can always employ someone else to clean and cook and be my receptionist. But what would you like to do?" She could not miss the love in his eyes as he said this, despite his obvious frustration.

"I'm happy to look after the house and take care of you and Charlie. That's not a job to me, not any more. You're my husband and I want to do that. And I like being the receptionist; I like meeting the patients. So I don't want to give those things up, I just don't want to see them as a job in exactly the same way."

"I see..." Lucien thought he understood. "So maybe Charlie and I could help out a bit more and appreciate what you do rather better?" Then something else occurred to him, a problem he should have foreseen.

"Jean, are you worried about money?" Until now, of course, he had paid her for her work; they had not discussed what would happen after they were married.

"Well, yes, I am, though that's only part of it. You can't pay your wife to look after you, that would be very strange, but I will need a little bit of money." She was avoiding his eye again.

"Jean, you are my wife. Everything I have is yours. But would it work if I paid you for being my receptionist? That way you will always have some money that is completely yours to do whatever you want with."

She nodded thoughtfully. "That might work," she admitted, finishing washing the last plate. "But as well as that I'd like to really be your partner - get involved in your cases a bit more, talk them over with you more, that sort of thing."

"That might be a good thing. You've already saved my life twice at least, so I probably shouldn't go anywhere without you!" He grinned at her and her chest contracted with love for him. He was trying so hard to give her whatever she wanted.

"Thank you." She wrapped her arms around him, getting in the way of the last of the drying up. He put down the plate and cloth, so he could hold her too.

"Jean, you are the best thing to happen to me in years. But we've both lived independent lives for nearly twenty years; it's not always going to be easy to work out how to do things. It will be worth it, I promise."

For a few moments they stayed still, hugging each other closely. Then Charlie strode into the kitchen, hopeful of some lunch. He looked embarrassed at catching them in an intimate moment, but Lucien laughed as he let Jean go. "Maybe Charlie needs to adjust a bit to the new situation too, hmm?"


	8. Chapter 8

**I don't know how they are going to deal with the divorce thing in series 5; probably not like this! But I think it will be interesting.**

 **One more chapter to this story after this one, then I might write a couple of one-shots - there are a few ideas brewing away at the moment in my head!**

Jean woke on Sunday morning with a feeling of unease, but also resolute. It would do no good to put it off any longer.

The previous Sunday she had skipped church, most unusually, telling herself she was newly married, nobody would expect her there, and she was entitled to sleep in for a while on a Sunday morning with her new husband.

But the decision did not sit well with her, and some things were better faced.

So this morning she dressed rapidly, aware that Lucien was watching her with half closed eyes, and sat at the dressing table to put her make up on. Catching her eye in the mirror, Lucien asked, "Would you like me to come with you?"

She was tempted by his offer, some moral support would be good, but Lucien never usually came to Mass with her, in fact never went to church at all, and it would only draw attention to her and the situation she found herself in.

A Catholic all her life, Jean knew very well what she had done. She had married a divorced man, and in a registry office too. Technically they had committed adultery, and she and Lucien were living in sin. In the eyes of the church at least.

Jean just couldn't accept this; she knew it was what the Church taught, but she couldn't accept that her marriage didn't count. How could it not?

She could feel tears threatening and she could not afford to get upset now. There was too much else to get through this morning and she couldn't give in to any weakness now.

Looking at Lucien with fondness in the mirror, she shook her head. "Thank you, but for today I'd rather go alone. Perhaps another time."

He nodded, but got up and got dressed in his suit anyway. He could at least take her in the car and bring her home again, and she might change her mind when they reached the church.

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Lucien pulled up outside the church and turned to Jean. "You don't have to do this, you know?" he said.

"The first time will be the worst; I'll get used to it in time." she managed a thin smile, and his stomach lurched. He loved her so much, and here was yet another loss she had to endure because of him.

He took her hand and kissed the back of it tenderly. "I'm sorry," he said quietly.

"Don't be," she replied. "I chose to marry you." She got out of the car quickly and walked briskly towards the door. Other parishioners were arriving now and, once she was out of sight, Lucien drove away and headed home.

Jean walked through the open door of the church and looked around rapidly. Choosing an inconspicuous spot towards the back of the church, she smiled determinedly and went to sit down. She knew the other people in the same pew as her, but only slightly, and they just nodded at each other.

Jean clutched her hymn book nervously and kept her eyes down for a few minutes. As she calmed down a little she risked a few glances around. A woman she knew in the pew in front turned round and smiled at her, mouthing congratulations. Jean smiled back, feeling encouraged, and noticed a few other faces she recognised, acknowledging her, offering a quick smile. Perhaps this would not be too awful.

The service started and Jean joined in with the usual words and hymns, so well known she scarcely needed to follow along in the book. She repeated the responses automatically, soothed by the familiarity.

As the sermon started, she let her mind wander away. What did God really think of her? Had she really done something so terrible? Marrying Lucien wasn't something she regretted at all, quite the opposite, so if it was a sin it wasn't one she could repent of. Where did that leave her?

She knew many of the parishioners would sympathise with her, but the fact remained that she would never be able to receive communion again, not while she was married to Lucien. That was the painful part, the thing that no one could change, not even the priest, even if he wanted to.

She would get used to it, she told herself repeatedly. One day it would feel normal, habitual, perhaps she wouldn't think about it at all. It would just be an old scar, not painful anymore.

But today it hurt. The church's rejection of her was painful and was no denying it.

When the other worshippers started to go forward to receive communion she closed her eyes and stayed in her seat. She tried to look inconspicuous but felt exposed and watched.

She was determined not to feel shame. Over recent months she had felt ashamed many times, particularly when Mei Lin first returned to Lucien. She had been ashamed of falling in love with a married man, but later had realised she had nothing to be ashamed of in this. Neither of them had known he was still married, so it couldn't be helped.

But she was definitely not ashamed of marrying Lucien. She had made every effort to do the right thing, refusing to sleep with him before they were married, and then getting married at the first opportunity. So she would not be ashamed, she reminded herself firmly.

Once the service was over Jean hung back a little before heading to the door. Evelyn approached her and squeezed her hand for a moment. "I'm so glad you came, Jean" she whispered, and kept hold of her hand as she pulled her gently towards the door. "Come on, chin up," she reminded her and before she could object Jean found herself shaking the priest's hand, something she did as a matter of course every week, but rather a different experience today.

He smiled at her. "Lovely to see you, Mrs Blake," he said, "and...I'm sorry for..." He finished uncertainly.

"Don't be," Jean said, for the second time that morning. "He's worth it."

The priest smiled at her rather defiant answer. "Ah, good, well, you and Dr Blake will always be welcome here."

As Jean walked outside she turned and thanked Mrs Toohey, and felt relief that the worst was over. Squinting slightly against the sunshine, after the relative darkness inside the church, she looked up the road hoping to see the familiar Holden.

Lucien had parked a few yards away, and he watched her closely as she hurried over, trying to gauge her mood. With a sigh of relief and a flash of her eyes at him, she got into the passenger seat and he drove away.

"How was it." he asked.

"Fine. Awful. I don't know. Evelyn was kind. Even the priest was nice."

He didn't reply immediately, and after a pause she continued. "Pull over for a minute," and he did as she asked.

"I told the priest you are worth it." She laughed nervously. "I can't believe I said that to him! But it's true, you are worth it, and this is only a little thing for me to give up. I'd give up far more to have you." She leant over and kissed him, with more passion than she would normally show in public.

"I'm not sure I am worth it, but thank you," he replied.

"Hmm, well, you're coming with me next week," she said with a grin, as Lucien pulled away from the kerb to drive home.


	9. Chapter 9

**This is the last chapter for this fanfic. Please let me know what you thought of the story overall; I've found this quite hard to write because it takes us away from canon into the unknown (at least until we get series 5, hopefully).**

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They had been away from home just three weeks but to Jean it felt much longer. They had seen so much and travelled so far that it seemed to her as if months had passed since they left Ballarat. Even the light was different here.

Lucien paid the taxi driver and delved in his coat pocket for his door key, while Jean cast a discerning eye over the outside of the house and the garden. The grass needed cutting and some weeds were appearing; she would have to do some gardening tomorrow.

They left their cases in the hallway and Jean went to put the kettle on. She glanced in the fridge and was relieved to find there was some milk at least. Lucien called out as he walked from room to room, checking to see if Charlie was at home. Getting no reply, he headed for the kitchen and walked up behind Jean, wrapping his arms around her from behind and leaning in to her.

"Charlie must be at work, and there's no sign of Mrs Toohey," he said. Jean poured the water into the teapot and turned to face him. She looked him in the eye and then laughed out loud at what she read there.

"It's only lunchtime, Lucien, we've just come back from three weeks on honeymoon, and I'd like to remind you it was our second honeymoon anyway!" But she was only pretending to be annoyed by his suggestive look; she was actually rather flattered.

They drank the tea sitting at the kitchen table, taking the time to readjust to being home again. Then Lucien went into his surgery to read the notes his locum had left, and Jean looked around the house, seeing what Mrs Toohey had done while they were away.

Evelyn had agreed to doing a few hours cleaning and laundry for Charlie while they were away, but Charlie had decided he would rather cook for himself, after the experience he and Mattie had had when Jean went to Adelaide.

Then Jean went into the sunroom and started watering and tending to her plants. The early summer sun was very warm, and she realised she should get changed into something cooler. She had spent the previous three weeks in winter clothes and it was a pleasure to be back in an Australian summer.

When Lucien had asked her where she most wanted to go for their honeymoon, he had warned her that Europe in November would be grey, wet and cold, but she was determined. She wanted to see some of the world, and Paris in particular. Well, now she had, and she had loved it. And they had seen quite a lot of Europe in the just over two weeks they had after the long flight was done. She had some amazing memories.

Lucien found his mind wandering from the hand written notes the locum had left him. There was little in the notes that surprised him and he preferred to think back over the last few weeks with Jean. He smiled at how much more relaxed she was with him now; being constantly together, with no work to distract them, they had learned far more about each other than they could ever do at home.

He thought about how much they had changed since their wedding night. Jean's nerves were long gone, and she had stayed in more hotels than he cared to remember since that night at the Windsor that she had found so intimidating. And he had seen a more adventurous side to her as she saw new places, ate different food, attempted new languages.

And he had to concede he had changed too; he was getting used to thinking about someone else rather than just doing what he wanted. He had lived with Mei Lin for only a few years of their long marriage and had forgotten the challenges and joys of putting someone else first. He thought he and Jean had made a good start together.

That evening at the dinner table, as they all caught up on news and enjoyed a meal home cooked by Jean, Charlie looked at them both and saw the shift in them again, a new easiness with each other.

It was good to have them back. The future promised to be very interesting.

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 **I am intending to write a one-shot about somewhere they visited during their honeymoon, but I've not fully thought it out yet. When it's ready I'll post it separately, but it would fit between chapters 8 and 9 of this story.**

 **I hope you've enjoyed this x**


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